Your Lips Taste of Wine
by MademoiselleKraut
Summary: Prohibition Au. Mikasa Ackermann was what she liked to call as a consigliere to the feared mobster Rivaille. With prohibition comes new challenges and new gains plus a very suspicious Chief of Police after them both. Can Rivaille hold his place amongst the greatest or will Irvin Smith make him fall and what part does Mikasa have to play in this? Rated M, RivMika.


Chapter 1: Prohibition

Rivaille Dupont was the sole heir of his father's fortune and business when the old man died just a year after the Great War had ended. He remembered how his father had dragged him outside on November 11th and dance in the streets with him. They sang the national anthem of the United States and their motherland France. The had danced, sang, drank and laughed till the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't till the next day that Rivaille's father had learnt of his older son's death, whom had died just minutes before the war ended.

"Absolute rotten luck," he had cried out in accented english. Rivaille had been 15 when the war had started with a mother, father and brother. In the year 1919 he was 20 years old with a fortune of a nobleman and now the leader of his father's built-up-from-the-dirt Mafia. It had been hard in the beginning without his father or his mother to lead him. It had been hard in the first months. He had of course like his brother been brought up in the business, but never had Rivaille thought that running the family business would be so hard. It became like second nature though in the few months that followed. Rivaille Dupont, the son of Jacques and Francisca Dupont had risen to the top of the Mafia Game nearly six months after the death of Jacques. Rivaille Dupont, the lanky, short French boy who had his brother fight his fights was now stocky, tall and devilishly handsome by the time his 21st year came around. He had barely passed the 5,3" mark when the Great War had started now was almost 5,8". His dull hair had become more like black onyx and the chubbyness of his face disappear to show his high cheekbone. Rivaille who had once been a cry baby had become the ruthless leader of the French Mafia and times had never been better.

Times got even better when January 16, 1920 came around. The Prohibition as people would come to call it was an amazing time for those who lived the gangster life. Rivaille took great advantage of this. He rose to the top like he had done before. Al Capone was the big cheese in Chicago and Rivaille was the same in Manhattan and Brooklyn, his territory. He became known as a man you wouldn't want to cross. He was the Real McCoy when it came to smuggling and exporting bootleg booze. In 1922 he was the best in all of New York City area. He soon had the whole city under his fingertips. He was sending his finest up to Canada, which for a while had been under Prohibition as well. He had a friend up in Montreal (one of the three provinces by 1922 that had repealed the ban) who transported the alcohol to Ontario and other surrounding provinces. They had a good deal going on, Levi got 60% of the commissions and his friend got 40%. It was like that with other States and Provinces. He was going strong with all the exporting and the speakeasies that he had set up around the city. His main one which he had his office set up above it was in Brooklyn near the harbours. It was there in his excellently decorate office in the year 1922 that he decide that he need a personal assistant or as he would come to call it, a bodyguard. It wasn't too long ago that he had been attacked and having another pair of hands would prevent more split lips. He also need someone who could be at the docks for his cargo when he couldn't be there.

"Petra," he called out. A moment later a young, ginger haired girl came in. She was dressed in a poor man's apparel which suited her quite well.

"Yessir."

"I need an assistant," he drawled as he shifted around papers and other things on his desk.

"Sir, you already-"

"I need a personal assistant. I need an extra someone that I can trust to do the work properly."

"Like a bodyguard slash servant."

"Well when you put it that way-"

"Levi, don't say anything perverted please."

He laughed heartedly, "Oh Miss Ral you should see your face. I just need a somebody who can fight, is respectful and maybe a little pretty. I'm too busy for the shipments right now and I need someone down there to act as though they were me if you get my drift. Find me someone like that and I'll give you a raise."

Petra smiled her sweet sort of smile, "So a pretty girl who you can work with."

"The jobs I am going to have for this girl are going to mean she will have to be close to me. So maybe. I just need a bodyguard, so find me a perfect person. You are always good at that."

Petra nodded quickly at that and dismissed herself from the room.

"_She is a smart girl, I'll have someone by the end of the day,_" he thought. Rivaille rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. He was so tired and so stressed, but work had to be done.

In that moment Rivaille had no idea that the choice he had just made was going to change him forever.

-0-

Mikasa Ackermann was a 15 year old in 1922 who had come from Germany to America just a month before the Great War. Many said that in her youth she had been a beauty, but in all honesty she had been a beauty all her life. Half of the japanese blood that ran through her veins had given her the oriental beauty that had gotten her in trouble early in her life. At 7 she had been sold into sex slavery and was released at 13 when her 'boss' had been arrested and she set free. Nearly a year after she had met an old childhood friend named Eren Jaeger. The boy had been living with his mother, Carla. Mikasa was accepted into the family almost immediately. Amongst the family was another friend, Armin Arlelt who left not too long afterward to go to work at the docks. Mikasa had never found out about what happened to Mr. Grisha Jaeger, but she had a feeling that the Doctor had gone overseas to serve as a field medic.

It was a 15 years old that she had been standing on the piers of New York City wondering about her father and mother whom she knew were dead and how her grandmother must have missed her so. Eren had given her a red scarf for her recent birthday and ever since then it had been wrapped around her next. It was then wrapped around her protecting her from the brisky October winds that flowed through the pier. The wind didn't seem to bother her despite how it cut through her clothes and how it brought the sounds of drunken sailors to her ears. It wasn't the sound that should of scared her, but the words that came slurring out of their mouths.

"Look at that slant. Damn she had one hella body."

His friend laughed, "Watch it there Eddy, can never trust a nip you can't. Their cunts are booby traps you see. Me friend got some _ter-ri-ble_ disease from one of them."

"Let's give 'er a try why don't we?" the third added. Their voices were laced with an accent that Mikasa could only identify closely to was some sort of variation of Cockney. It was disgusting to listen to and even more so with their slurred words. She could hear them walk closers and closers, but she refused to move.

"_I will not go down without a fight._"

When they close enough Mikasa in a spur bent down and hit the middle one with a 2 by 4 in the mouth. As the plank made contact with the idiot's face she smiled. It was a habit to keep a weapon near her when she was out on the piers and for once it seemed that her paranoia paid off.

She hit the second and third with a quickness that could only be achieved through years of practise. She held the plank like it was a sword and hit as though it could slice through their flesh like one. Techniques were used and not a single hit landed on her. They tried to land their fists on her porcelain skin to make it go from white to a red, but alas their efforts were in vain. It wasn't until the one called eddy was hit with the plank a third time did he cry out for retreat. They ran like a dog with its tail between its legs. As they ran she taunted them.

"How did you like my rod boys? never come back you hear. I will KILL you next time, KILL YOU."

They were far gone when she finally dropped the plank. Her fingers were sore from gripping on too hard to the plank. Adrenaline disappeared from her veins and left her only with weaken peace. Unable to keep herself from standing proud like always, Mikasa sank to her knees not caring if the impact would bruises them.

"_I was strong, I was brave. I made my ancestors proud. No One will touch me, no one will harm me. I am brave._"

Her breath still came out laboured after the fight and as it entered the air did it look like steam. She was so involved in her thoughts did she not notice a woman approach her. This woman had hair just as beautiful as an orange sunset and walked with a sense of purpose. It should come as no surprise that this woman had watched the fight that had happened and saw how excellent Miss Mikasa was.

"Are you alright there miss," the mysterious woman asked, kneeling down to the oriental's level.

Mikasa opened her eyes and laughed a breathy laugh, 'Have been better. Damn bell bottoms were give me trouble so i fixed them up."

"I could see that," The woman extended her hand in order to shake the others hand, "My names Petra Ral, yours?"

Mikasa took Petra's hand, "Mikasa Ackermann."

"Do you need help up?"

"I'm good Miss Ral, I am good."

True to her word she got up with ease. Her knees cracked in complaint and they were sore from her collapse. She extended her hand for Petra to take, which she did and helped her up.

"Say Miss Ackermann," Petra started as she brushed the wrinkles out of her her boyish blouse, "Do you need a job?"

"Why?"

"I work for a very wealthy man named Mr. Dupont. he is looking for a certain someone who can fight, to be a second him I suppose. He runs a very tight shift 'Coffee Exporting' business, but can't always be at the piers to pick up to supervise it over. He needs a bodyguard as well. I am looking for someone who can do both when needed. I saw yo fight Miss and I have to say it was amazing. The way you fought with that plank was as if you could fight with a sword. He pays well and I think you are perfect!"

There was silence as Mikasa thought over what Petra had purposed. She needed a job for sure since she was planning on leaving Mrs. Jaeger and Eren by her 16th birthday, but to work as a bodyguard? That was craziness. Never the less was it tempting.

"I would like to meet this Mr. Dupont first before I come to any decisions."

'Of course! Mr. Dupont would want to meet you first too. He needs to know if he can trust you. Obviously he would know you before trusting you. Come with me and I'll bring you to him. He has an office set up by 53rd street. Right by the water. Come on."

Mikasa followed Petra. The redhead gave her a sense of security that was so hard to feel. She would later learn it was because she had this motherly sense to her since Petra often took care of her three comrades more than they took care of her.

Petra at that moment was the string of fate between the Rivaille Dupont and Miss Mikasa Ackermann and nobody would realize it.

-0-

Night had started to fall and that meant that on 53rd street right by the water did a speakeasy begin to roar with excitement. During the day it was dead and the night was when it was alive with music and laughter. That was how he liked it. While everyone in the basement of the large place sing, dance and drink till they felt no more, Rivaille was upstairs in his office dealing with business that only appeared at night. Dealing with loans and deals plus those who had betrayed the Mafia boss was a nightly occurrence and did Rivaille deal with it like a pro. He was just finishing up with one of the men who worked on one of the ships that held a shipment did Petra and Mikasa enter the building. They entered through the hidden staircase to the basement. After Petra gave the password did they enter a world of adultery and pure sin.

"You never told me your boss ran a speakeasy," Mikasa said scornfully. She watched as two woman with short, blonde bobbed hair dance on one of the many tables practically showing off their bloomers.

Petra laughed at her scared look, "Never been to one I suppose? The look on your face is priceless. Mr. Dupont runs a coffee business to hid up the fact that he is the leader of the French mafia. He deals with drugs, booze and gambling. Use to be his pa's business, but the old man died and his older brother died during the war so he took the throne. And honey does he look good in a crown. The best of the best. Not even the Mob will oppose him. He has major control over this city and it it scary how well he handles it all." 

"I will become his _consigliere_?"

"I suppose," Petra replied leading her to the staircase which lead to upstairs. It looked hidden as well.

"There are five floors to this place. The basement or club, the coffee warehouse, a not so mini floor which he turned into an apartment for himself, his office and another smaller apartment. The staircase were in is obviously a closed off staircase. It is extremely hard to find on the warehouse floor. His office were going to is used only for mafia business, okay."

"Okay."

They came to one landing then another and another in what seemed like an endless staircase. A door was there and Petra opened it to reveal a small hallway to a more handsome door. The hallway had dark wood panelling and the floors made of a slightly lighter wood. Petra walked forward into the hallway and held the door open for Mikasa. She entered and heard the door close behind her. She looked back to see Petra was still there.

"Don't worry I won't leave you two alone. He can get a bit tense when alone with someone he doesn't know."

Mikasa nodded her head and looked forward again. She gulped loudly and started to walk forward. It felt as if she was walking in slow mode and through her mind raced all the stories she had heard of mafia men. The Mob or Italian mafia made it to the news more so than any other so maybe this French mafia wasn't so bad after all, but a wicked thought stopped that.

"_What if he is too good to get caught? Oh god Mikasa what have you gotten yourself into?!_"

Luckily before Mikasa was about the grab the doorknob to his office Petra lightly guided her away.

"Let me go in first, I want to explain quickly what is going on."

"Alright, so I just wait here," her voice was steady, not betraying her to the redhead.

Petra smiled at the girl, "Precisely. I'll be back."

She got a quick glimpse of the office before it when Petra walked in, but in seconds it was closed again. She stood outside wondering what was taking place in the office.

"_I wonder what he is like. Is he kind or stereotypical mob boss. Is he young or old. i wonder if he looks anything like a frenchman. Dupont is definitely french,_" she let her mind wander about the man that may soon become her boss.

"_Oh dear god I may become part of the mafia!_"

Her thoughts and worries were interrupted when the door opened slightly. petra's head stuck out and jerked her head for the oriental to come inside. Mikasa nodded and she knew that her emotions betrayed her then. She couldn't hide her worries. They were soon gone when she laid eyes on her maybe-soon-to-be boss.

She had never met a man that look quite like him. His eyes were heavy lidded with irises that were a perfect blue. His nose was straight edged and cheekbones high. His complexion was pale like hers yet more of a creamy colour if there could be such a thing which contrasted excellently with his dark hair. He was a class A beauty and yet that wasn't what really shocked her about him. He was so young and yet he held this serious look on his face. The only real imperfection in her mind she could find on him was that he look deathly tired, like he had been up for days on end.

She took a second to take in his features before doing a quick curtsey. That brought a smile to his face. He got up from his chair and walk to the front of his desk more closer to her. When he spoke she was amazed at how appealing yet adenoidal it was.

"Hello. I am sure you know why Miss Ral brought you here for."

"Yessir," Mikasa said timidly. She keeped her eyes locked with his own. She noticed now that she was closer how there were specks of green in those eyes, "I was told that I would be something like an _Consigliere_."

The word made him straighten up with shock. His eyes were wide. He suddenly got this weird look on his face before bursting out in laughter. The tension that had built in the few seconds of his silence were gone. Mikasa noticed how Petra's shoulder relaxed and that she shot her this 'You did good' look.

"Oh Miss, I like you. I would rather call it an _avocat _ then an _consigliere_. Petra also told me about what happened down at the piers. I have to say that you really did beat them up. They were my sailors by the way, one of them came here and complained of 'some demon attacking them with a two by four'. I have to say you earned my respect."

"I sure hope I did," Mikasa growled at the thought of the sailors, "They were talking about me in absolutely revolting ways. One called me a slant."

The joy on his face was gone in a second and took on something more darker, "I will talk to them about that. How dare they do say something like that. I am sorry and let me tell you I am nothing like that. To insult anyone based on their appearance or race is just-"

Mr. Dupont had to stop. He looked truly bitter over the idea of insulting someone and broke eye contact with Mikasa to look at his shoes. It made her wonder if that had happened to him in the past. He shook the thought away and looked back at Mikasa and smiled.

"I have to say I am impressed by how you took on three sailors without a single hit. Petra told me everything and how you got the scampering away like a bunch of cry babies. I love that. I could use someone as strong and talent like you. Before I go any further, I need to ask what is your name and choice of weapon?"

Mikasa gave a bow like her mother and those would have given before her, "My name is Mikasa Ackermann and I fight with swords or knives. Anything that can cut flesh."

'My name is Rivaille Dupont and I think I would love to have at my side. But heed this Miss Mikasa, you try to stab me in the back I will do much worse to you."

His voice went deep and threatening at the last part. It scared her to bits.

"Sir, I would never. I have a feeling you keep your promises and I don't want to find out what your worse is."

Rivaille beamed.

-0-

"So you really are leaving."

Mikasa nodded quickly. Eren looked ready to cry, but this was Eren. He just swallowed the emotions and tried to look happy for his friend.

"Oh Mikasa that is so awesome. I can't believe that you are actually working for the mafia. And that he offered you an apartment and everything is just as cool."

"Yeah it is pretty nice. He is really nice. Mr. Dupont is the exact opposite of what i could really imagine. He is good looking, smart and generous. I am so glad that I get to work for him. And also the shipping company Armin works for is actually his. That what he uses as a cover up with bootlegging, importing coffee that is."

"Wow. I wonder if he would hire me. That would be so cool and I could work with Armin!"

Mikasa smiled at her friend. It had been a long time since she had seen Eren look so excited about anything. He was excited for her and the fact that he thought it was cool warmed her heart immensely. Eren Jaeger to her was a perfect person to no end.

"I'll miss you though," he whispered, "I'll miss waking up and looking over and seeing you there. I'll miss walking with you. I'll just miss you. What will I do without my friend?"

She placed her hand comfortingly on his shoulder, "You will be alright. You have your mum and she'll look after you and love you like I do. Just be good and help her when she needs it. Eren I needed you two years ago and you helped. Your mother needs your help now. I promise I will come back and visit you as much as possible. Just be good and do good."

"I'm always good."

That was the last conversation that they had together in the room that the three residents shared. Eren eventually had to leave to go down to the grocers' where he work at the moment which left Mikasa all by herself in the tiny apartment space. She cleaned up around the bedroom gathering all she owned to place in her travelling case, look around the place one last time and leave to go to her new home. When she left she was greeted with a surprise.

Mikasa had imagined that she would have to hail a cab, but instead a nice automobile waited outside with a man leaning on the passenger door. He held a cigarette in his hand and looked slightly bored, almost like Rivaille in a sense. He was still young and that was obvious, but his hair was greying and wrinkles appeared on his skin. She thought that the man and the carriage were waiting for someone else till she walked by and the man called for her.

"Excuse me Miss, don't mean to bother you, but you don't happened to be the Missus Ackermann."

"I am, who is asking."

The man did a quick bow whilst taking off his cap, "Auruo Bossard at your service. Missus Petra Ral told me I would come and pick you up. Congratulations on the job by the way. It is hard to land something like that with Mister Dupont."

She smiled at the thought of Petra. The woman had been so kind as to walk her home after last night so she obviously knew where she lived and giving the address to Auruo to pick her up made the woman ten times more kinder. Mikasa gave Auruo held out her hand for his to shake. He blushed slightly at it, but in the end placed the fag in his mouth and took her hand.

"It is very nice meeting you."

"Likewise Missus. Shall we get going?"

She gave a quick nod. The corners of his mouth twitched in return.

"Let me get your briefcase Missus," he offered and took it off of her hands. He gestured to the door that he was leaning on and went to the back of the to place her luggage. She sat inside the carriage and was amazed at how clean and pristine it was. She stroked the leather seating and enjoyed the feel of it. Auruo entered the car not to long after and put the car into drive.

"So Missus, have you ever rode in a fancy beauty as this," his voice was filled with pride. The automobile meant a great deal to him.

"To be quite honest, I have only rode in a horse carriage. Horseless carriages were a luxury and please call me Mikasa."

Auruo smirked light, "It would be improper to call you by your first name so quickly. Please allow me sometime, that was how I was raised you see. I hope you like your first ride in a horseless carriage. Even the finest of gents would drool over her. Opel 10/30 (10/35) PS, the finest of the fine. Just came out this year too. Adam Opel KG is a genius and proved it when he made this piece of art. Mr. Dupont was ecstatic when I came back with this beauty. For free too, since a 'friend' owed him huge."

"Must be one rich friend."

"Very rich. Opels right now are about $12,000 and are they worth it. Lovely colour this one is too, a nice shiny red."

The ride to 53rd was filled with idle talk. Auruo talked about some of the people she would meet.

"Erd Gin is like me, running errands here and there. He has pretty wife at home and is expecting their first sometime next year so you are warned. he goes on non stop about it. Gunter Schultz is an old friend of Mr. Dupont's older brother Milo. They served together in the War. If you ask he will tell you amazing stories and so will Erd. You already met Petra, isn't she perfect?"

Mikasa gave a giggle at this. The way Auruo said her name was the same a religious man would sing a prayer, "I guess she taken to your fancy?"

He shrugged and smiled shyly, "I suppose she has. He is just everything a man like me could want in a soulmate. Shame she crushes on Rivaille. She is the something like a _sous patron _ or underboss in your words. She takes care of the main speakeasy you saw last night and stuff when the boss is unable to. If he were to die, which he wouldn't she would take over. Don't let her look deceive you by the way, she can be nasty when you least expect it.

"Never sail on stormy seas, never insult a man's pride and never anger a kind person."

"So you get what I mean," he chortled.

"It is always the nice ones that kick you when you are down."

"Here, here! Ah here we are. I shall get your door if you want Missus."

She waved him off politely, :Thank Mr. Bossard, you have been to kind. I can get out on my own. I am no porcelain doll."

"Let me get your brief then."

Before she could protest otherwise, he was out of the carriage and grabbing her travelling case. She let herself out and looked around at where she was. In the night she hadn't appreciated how lovely the bay was and how clean the water looked. The building was slightly older and yet it held this aura of properness that made you think that hell would freeze over before anything unlawful would take place here.

She followed Auruo into the warehouse sector of the building and he showed her quickly around.

"There is a private staircase and public one. The public one is the only one that the bulls know of and they think it leads to his apartment space. As you can see it is semi closed off, but still easy to find. The private is used for Mt. Dupont's 'special clientele' and for us _soldats_. It is the only one that leads to the joint downstairs. I advise you use the private stairs. Here let me show you where it is."

It turns out it was on the right side of the warehouse as a door built in almost seamlessly into the panelling. He opened it for her and waved her in. She went in careful not to trip.

"All the way up Missus."

She climbed up all the way up to the last landing and to the last door. She opened it with excitement and was glad at what she saw.

Her new home was quaint and perfect for someone like her. She saw that there were two doors, one obviously leading to a bathroom and the other to her bedroom. There was a small kitchen and lovely table with pretty flowers in a vase waiting on top of it. On the vase was a note. She walked up closer to it and read what it had to say.

_I hope this is to your liking. you won't see me or the boss till later tonight so I hope that these flowers will serve as a better substitute for us till we see you tonight._

_Petra Ral_

"I suppose you are right Mr. Bossard," she called to Auruo whom was placing her case by the door, "Miss Ral really is perfect."

-0-

_**So I am writing another RivaMika story. Yay! I really loved the idea of this. Rivaille is going to be more so ooc more then Mikasa and it will be explained later on why, but to sum it up they both haven't gone through as much turmoil as their canon selves as. I always believe they would more so be human if they lived more common lives. Mikasa has in a sense and the same applies to Rivaille.**_

_**The French Mafia is not recognized in America, the rise of this Mafia is all of my imagination. The Mob on the other hand does. The Mob or Italian Mafia is what 'The Godfather' was based on. I gave Rivaille a last name just because more families will be introduced and it will get confusing if I don't give him a surname.**_

_**For all you assholes who are like 'But Rivaille is his last name," screw off would you. I have had this already with other people. According to several sources Levi is an english translation while Rivaille is a frencH. The manga often ROMANTICIZES his name which means full name. To me Levi is like a nickname whilst Rivaille would be the proper way, but hey if you don't like it that is okay. What ever makes you happy. I will use Levi more so as the story progresses, I only use it now because it sounds more sophisticated than Levi.**_

_**53rd street does exist now a days and it is more so industrial, but I don't know about that in '22. Please don't kill me if I got it wrong, remember this is all my imagination. Not everything will be perfect.**_

_**Drowning in Your Good Intentions will come out soon, I am just delaying you pain and broken hearts.**_

_**-MademoiselleKraut**_


End file.
